WHY DO WE MISS PEOPLE WHO WEREN’T EVEN GOOD FOR US ?
There are nights we all know too well. You lie awake, staring at the ceiling, and find yourself missing someone who was never good for you. It doesn’t make sense. It feels as if your mind and your feelings live in two different worlds.
Some people call this a trauma bond, and while that phrase captures part of it, there is something more tender and human underneath. The real question is why we find ourselves longing for chaos more than calm, and why the rush of intensity leaves a deeper imprint than the quiet comfort of stability.The highs and lows of a turbulent connection flood the body with chemicals that make it feel almost addictive. That storm, however exhausting, can feel more alive than the steady rhythm of a safe love.
And when we miss someone, we rarely remember the whole picture. Instead, we soften the edges of the past. We remember the sweetness, a laugh, a glance, a touch. Often, what we long for is not even the person themselves, but who we were in those moments. Someone who felt seen, wanted, or less alone.
The important thing to understand is that this longing does not mean we are weak. It does not mean we want them back. It simply means we are human, with hearts that continue to reach for connection. Longing is not a command. It is a signal. It invites us to pause and ask: What is it I truly need right now? Do I need safety, passion, tenderness, to be held, or simply to be seen?
When we begin to answer those questions with honesty, the pull of old attachments starts to loosen.
We stop chasing after memories and begin creating what we actually deserve. Sometimes that means leaning into friendships that bring comfort. Sometimes it means offering ourselves the love we once searched for in others. And sometimes it means finding a safe space for healing, where these knots can be gently untangled. Pay attention to what your heart truly needs. When we listen closely to that need, we begin to create healthier patterns of love. That willingness, tender, vulnerable, sometimes unsteady, it is exactly what allows real healing and deeper relationships to grow.